The Study of Magical Anatomy
by AliceAtlas
Summary: George gets invited to a midnight study session by Merriella, but she has more in mind that just hitting the books. And on the other side of Hogwarts, Fred has his hands full with Cynthia "Studying". Suuuuuper Lemony :)
1. Chapter 1

George Weasley stood outside Merriella's room for quite some time. He reasoned that he wasn't nervous to study with her; he was just giving her extra time to get her room ready. After all, girls were usually late anyway right?

He stood there with his hand to the door, willing himself to knock. It had been five minutes of pacing. He looked at his watch and winced at his cowardice. "Come on George!" he whispered to himself. He heard a faint noise from inside the door, which made him jump.

He turned to flee back to his room, ready to forget the whole thing. Two things made him stop however. First, was the thought of them being together on the sofa. Maybe even sitting close enough for him to casually slide his hand past her knee; or lean over to look down the collar of her sweater that she seemed to favor wearing so dangerously low.

And the second reason was that he'd already risked being caught by Filch sneaking out this late. He'd unfortunately given the marauder's map to that blasted Harry with Fred. He'd felt generous at the time, but now he was kicking himself. He might as well go through with this plan.

He turned back around to the door and knocked softly.

"Coming!" came a feminine voice from behind the heavy oak. He was eternally grateful for the deep breath he took as he heard the door unlock and swing slowly open, because that's when Merriella appeared. If he hadn't have inhaled, he would have never gotten oxygen into them again.

Merriella stood there leaning, her arm draped casually against the door. Her usual pulled up bun was undone letting her long hair spill over her shoulders. She was wearing a slip. _A SLIP_; with lace trimming on top, providing a frame work for her décolletage, and a lace hem skimming the middle of her thighs. And over that a sheer robe that pooled on the floor around her bare feet.

George's mind grasped for meaning. Surely she wasn't seducing him. She had invited him over to study. To study. At midnight. Oh, but he was a twat! She asked him to study at midnight! He'd been so excited at the prospect of being her potions partner that he hadn't even considered asking why they couldn't do the same thing in a library in the daylight. Suddenly his hands became slick with sweat.

"George, don't just stand there, come inside."

When he didn't move, she reached her arm out to grasp his hand and pulled him into the room. He felt like an idiot when he jerked his hand away at the heat that sprang up at the contact. He knew it was going to feel like that.

She looked at him strangely and closed the door, turning to press her back into it. "So, did you bring your books?"

He stared at her. "Books?" he asked lamely. What books was she talking about?

"Your potion books? To study with?" Her eyebrows rose.

"Study?" He snapped back into reality. So, she really did want to study? "Course! Course I did!" George went to the small table behind him and lay his book bag down, and pulled out several volumes. His heart had sunk however. So, he was in for a night of tedious study, when he could be in his comfortable bed sleeping. And he had to keep his mind on disgusting potions, while a goddess sat next to him in an outfit that left little to the imagination. He was in for a long night.

"Oh good," she said, sliding her hand over his back to peer at the books he held. He jumped as her fingers pressed into his shoulder. She didn't seem to notice. "I'm glad you brought this one," she said taking it from him and opening the pages leisurely. "Did you have any trouble finding it in the library?" she questioned as she peered up at him from under her eyelashes.

"N-no, it was right where you said it would be." He watched as her rear swung from side to side as she walked away from him, still turning the pages with her long fingers. She looked back over her shoulder at him. "Would you like some tea?" she asked.

"I, um, no. Thank you. I'm alright." He swallowed.

"Nothing?" she seemed to pur.

"Maybe some water?" he squeaked, pulling on the collar of his shirt.

"Sit on the sofa by the fire, I'll get it for you." She walked to the kitchenette, reserved for rooms for the older students.

George made his way to the loveseat, and sat in the middle, plopping the potion books on the coffee table in front of him. He felt he ought to say something; something to relax his nerves. After all, she was a person, he was a person. There was no reason why they couldn't get through this night easily and with no awkwardness, especially on his part. Fred wouldn't have had this problem. He would have had this girl begging for him to kiss her by the time he was done charming her.

"Where's Cynthia?" he asked, referring to her roommate, his eyes on the fire burning brightly in the hearth.

"She's gone for the night."

"What? How?"

"She went to study with someone else. It's nice isn't it? Now we can study without interruption."

"Is that a thing with you girls?" he asked, completely missing the sultry tone in her voice. "Late night study sessions in other people's rooms?" He made himself busy organizing the potion books in front of him.

"No, this is the first time we've tried it. But I think it's going to work quite nicely."

"Well, this might be the last one for me," said George begrudgingly. "I had to sneak past Filch, and that was no easy task, believe me."

Merriella returned with his water, and handed it to him with a sigh. "I see," she said softly.

He glanced up at her face, and saw that he'd upset her. What was wrong with him? She was so beautiful, he should be grateful that she hadn't asked someone else to be her potions partner at all. One of the smartest girls in class, and she had asked him over to study with her at midnight! Not a bad way to spend an evening. He smiled weakly at her, in an attempt to show her he was joking. She didn't look as though she was amused.

She folded her leg underneath her and sat down next to him so that their knees were touching.

George flinched and she pulled her leg away. He wished he could control his bloody physical reactions.

"Merriella," he said turning toward her. He saw slight hurt in her eyes still. "Thank you for the water." He leaned forward and took a drink and placed it on the table.

"You're welcome. Should we get started?"

"Sure." They reached for the same book and their fingers collided as they touched the cover. Determined not to react to the sparks that flew up his arm, George kept his hand still, as she caressed it with hers, up then down. She pushed the book away and turned to look into his face.

His eyes flickered down to her neckline that sat low, revealing the top of her breasts, rounded and perfect. His heart was racing out of control. She followed his gaze and then looked up slowly. "George, do you like me?" she asked. He nodded and she smiled.

"I like you too," she said, raising herself up on her knees to peel the translucent robe off of her shoulders, letting it slide down her arms. "Wicked," he breathed at the sight of her undressing in front of him. This was the sexiest thing that was likely to ever happen to him.

He could only watch helplessly as she leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips with a soft moan. His lips followed hers as she pulled away. She managed to separate though and turned to slide herself backward over his lap. His arms came around her waist gently, holding her satin covered hips in place. He was afraid to move too quickly; afraid he would frighten her, or wake up from whatever magical dream he was having. She wiggled over his thighs, sliding her body against his chest, and she leaned forward to kiss him deeply. His hand went to her neck to hold her mouth to his as she opened it, meeting his tongue, delicately stroking it with her own making sparks fly behind his eyes. Her hair fell softly over his arm, and the feeling sent shivers down his spine. He was drinking in her scent, a mix of orange blossoms and magnolia, pungent; making his head spin. Her breasts grazed his chest, and then she would press against him, as she kept moving, delightfully not staying still.

Oh god, he wanted her. He wanted her so badly. His fingers pressed into her hip, and he let her fall slowly back against the leather arm of the sofa. She was the most magical creature in existence, he thought. The way her tongue danced against his, the sweetness of her lips. His brain was spinning out of control_. Eat your heart out Fred._

"George," she said against his mouth.

"Yes?" he asked, not breaking their kiss.

"I want you to touch me here." He pulled his lips away with a smacking noise and looked into her eyes as she slid his hand from her waist over her stomach, up to her breast.

"Alright," he said lamely, swallowing hard. He let his hand cup the mound underneath the satin fabric of her slip, and brushed his thumb over the peak of her nipple. She let out that delicious moan again and arched her back.

"More," she begged, and he couldn't help but oblige her. His fingers explored and teased. He guessed he was doing it right, because she kept telling him not to stop. Her hands went up into his hair, grabbing fistfuls, forcing his mouth deeper against hers.

"I think," she panted when she broke their kiss. "I think, we should move this to my bed."

"God yes," he said, but made no move to get up, and kissed her again, hand still on her breast. She slid her arm above her head, over the arm of the sofa, and grabbed her wand. With a flick of her wrist she was gone.

George's arms grasped at air, cursing as he fell forward against the warm leather where she had been a moment before.

"George, over here," she called from behind him. He took a deep breath at the sound of her voice calling his name, which once again he was grateful for, because when he raised himself up to peer over the back of the sofa, he would have had the air stolen from him once more. She was sitting on her bed, the covers pulled back, leaning back on her hands, completely naked.

He stumbled off the couch, standing up quickly and began walking slowly toward his destiny. "Y-you know, magic is only to be used by…"

"Are you really going to argue that point with me right now?" she asked, amused by the stutter in his voice, and the halted way he was walking.

"Erm, no," he said. He stood in front of her not sure what to do next. He held his hands in fists, willing himself to climb over her, and take her then and there. When he didn't move, she giggled, and stood up slowly. Running her hands over his jumper, up to his shoulders, and down to the hem, she slid her cool fingers underneath, and began to pull upward. George stood stock still, his arms at his sides.

"I'm going to need a little help here Love," she said.

"Oh, right." He lifted his arms, and pulled off the article of clothing, throwing it behind him, and made a grab for her waist.

"Not yet," she whispered. He reluctantly let go of the soft skin over her hips, and she slid the cotton shirt he had underneath his jumper over his head, so that his chest was completely bare. He shivered at the contact of the cold air, or maybe it was her, fiddling with his belt with her deft fingers. His hands went to her face, and he stroked her cheek with his thumb. She was so moved by the sweetness of the gesture, that she stopped unbuttoning the top button of his pants and looked up into his eyes.

"You're beautiful," he said. She smiled down, and placed her hand over his on her cheek.

"Thank you," she said. She went back to the button on his trousers, undid the zipper hurriedly, and pulled them down to his ankles, taking his shorts with them. She stood and smiled when she looked at his erection. Slowly she slid her fingers around it and squeezed gently.

George took a sharp intake of breath, and moved to pull her hand away. She was going to ruin him before he ever got to third base! "Merriella!" he cried, trying to be quiet, but finding it quite difficult.

"Yes?" she purred, releasing and squeezing again.

George went to his file of erection killing thoughts. Snape, standing over him in class, his gaze menacing and ugly; the stats of the Irish National Quidditch team; even the time when his mum caught him looking at those magazines. This wasn't helping…

"Merriella," his voice hitched. "I want to do this with you," he managed to get out.

She released him, and he gave a sigh of relief, but found he missed the contact desperately. He would soon remedy that. He was going to show this girl the time of her life.

He grasped her waist and pulled her flush against him. This was the most delicious feeling he'd ever felt before. He bent down to kiss her, as his hands made their way down to cup her bum, perfectly fitting in his hands.

"George," she said. "I want this."

His heart swelled. He knew this fact very well from the behavior now taking place, but to hear her say it was a shot of adrenaline to his pride. He didn't know what came over him, but he bent to scoop her up, and kneeled on the soft mattress, laying her down so he could gaze at her from above. This was all happening so fast, but he'd be damned if he was going to let anything stop what was about to take place.

His skin felt prickly and ticklish as he lay himself down over her.

Merriella watched as George Weasley knelt on her bed above her, his eyes fiery and lusty, and his lips pursing and un-pursing. She remembered the moment she'd first laid eyes on the twins, she had stopped short. She'd always had a soft spot for Gingers, and these two were no exception to that preference. They were laughing about something in the hallway, and she found out later that they had let off some kind of horrible stink bomb in Snape's office. They were much younger then, and ever since she had watched them from a distance, slowly observing each one in turn.

Fred was painfully cute, always having an air of mysterious confidence and mischief about him. In third year, she was positive she was in love with him. He never looked at her, but she was sure if she put herself in his way enough, he would notice her. This had put her in the path of George quite frequently, and while she would flounce around in front of Fred's face in what she hoped were outfits worthy of being noticed in, it was George's eyes that would watch her.

One day in Transfiguration, the only class she seemed to have trouble in, she couldn't manage to turn her rat into a mobile phone. McGonagall had seen her struggling from the opposite end of the room, and as she got up to point out her failings, George, who happened to be sitting beside her, flicked his wand discreetly and whispered the spell and her rat flopped onto the table with a clatter and began to ring.

"Very good, Merriella, brilliant job," said McGonagall behind her, patting her shoulder.

Merriella turned to George, and mouthed _thank you,_ gratefully. He smiled and winked at her and crossed his eyes at McGonagall's back, and turned back to the book he was investigating. From that moment, she was gone, lost in the sweetness of George.

She had arranged this whole night, convincing Cynthia this was the best way to get what they both wanted. Unbeknownst to George, Cynthia had snuck away from the Ravenclaw dorms, across Hogwarts in the opposite direction to his room where Fred was waiting to "study" with her. Knowing Fred, though he might be more immature when it came to humor, he was leaps and bounds ahead of George in the other ways of maturity, and Cynthia wouldn't be back until morning. Her plan from third year had come together quite beautifully.

Now here they were, Sixth years, naked and devouring each other on her bed. Her heart leapt as he buried his face in her neck, enjoying the delicious sensations that the ministrations of his tongue were sending down her body. She massaged her fingers into his hair and spread her legs apart to wrap around his. He groaned into her mouth as she slid her leg seductively down his several times. Her hands stayed buried in his hair as he made his way down her neck over her the swell of her breast to take her nipple into his mouth and suck hard. It made Merriella moan with unbridled volume.

George looked up from her breast. "Ssh!" he chuckled.

"It's alright," she said aloud. "I put a silence spell on the room. No one can hear us."

"So you really did have this planned out?" he asked, laying soft kisses on her chest.

"Of course," she gasped, pushing her head back into the pillow, her eyes closed. "What did you think?"

"I don't know what I thought. You're not easy to read Merriella." He slid his tongue to the other side, and Merriella had trouble getting air into her lungs.

"I've been throwing signals at you for years George Weasley," she said, writhing under him, making him stiffen to catch his breath.

"Really?" He made his way up to her face again, and peered down at her. Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared back into his for a moment. "You went to all this trouble for me? Why?" he asked seriously.

Merriella moved her hand up to cup his cheek. "You're the most wonderful boy I've ever met."

He stared at her. "I didn't know."

"Now you do. And now you need to finish me, because I don't think I can stand this much longer," she said, gesturing to his erection, poised at her entrance.

He smiled, and captured her mouth for a moment, and pushed into her. Her eyes squeezed shut, and he pulled out only to surge into her harder this time, crashing through a barrier he didn't know was there. She let out a cry, and held his back desperately, trying to forget about the pain coursing through her abdomen.

George, began to draw out, horrified at the pain in the face below his, but she dug her nails into his back.

"No, no, stay there. It will pass." She felt it slowly ebbing away and her body adjusting to him.

"Merriella, I didn't think, I'm sorry. I thought…"

"What did you think?" she asked a hitch in her voice.

"There are just so many boys who like you, who walk you to your classes, who talk about you all the time…"

"What?" she asked, her eyes opening. "Are you calling me, what I think you're calling me?" her eyes became watery.

"No! No, you're not. Not to me. I just thought, well, boys talk. Sometimes they lie, and apparently they lied about you. I'm sorry."

"I don't think of anyone else but you," she whispered, letting her fingers roam over his face. His eyes went wide. "I've saved myself for you."

He let this sink in, and bent to kiss her tenderly. "I only think of you," he said against her.

"George, I hoped… I always hoped..." she kissed him back fervently, and then pulled her lips away. "Now, can we finish what we started?"

He was still sheathed inside her.

"Are you going to be alright?" he asked.

"Yes! For God's sakes George, I've waited long enough!"

He smiled his sweet crooked smile, and began to pull and push again, moving over her, as close as he could get to her body.

"Faster," she breathed. "I'm so close."

He didn't need to be told twice. He slammed into her a few more times, until she began to cry out in a way that made him follow right behind. He pushed into her once more, and collapsed on top of her, riding out the waves of pleasure together, rolling her to her side and holding her close until they both stopped tremoring.

They gasped for air, and Merriella buried herself in him, tucking her head under his chin.

"That was bloody fantastic," he said, his hands running over her back. "Give me a short nap, and I'll do that to you again.

She chuckled and slid her hand up and down his arm. "Please do. You're an absolute beast George Weasley." He lifted her chin, and kissed her mouth sweetly.


	2. Chapter 2

_As requested by PM, here's Fred's side of the story (: Also, in answer to the question posed in said PM, I kind of took each of the twins personalities as I saw them and then magnified them. So they're a little more heightened than you'd normally see them. And Original characters, because it's easier to put yourself into the story! Happy reading! ~Alice_

...

Cynthia stood outside George and Fred's room. It was a miracle she'd made it through the hallway, past Filch and his blasted cat, and remembered the password to Gryffindor to give her the access she needed. She had let Merriella set the whole thing up. She personally would never have done anything like this. As much as she liked Fred and he flirted with her, she would never have been this bold.

Merriella said that she was sure that Fred liked her. She wasn't completely positive about that. And even if he did, it wasn't as much as she liked him. He had somewhat of a reputation at Hogwarts. He was a lady killer, and a damned skilled one; subtle, but potent.

He would corner some new girl of the week; make her laugh and then presto! She was walking with him down the hallway, her arm around his waist. She didn't want to be that girl; the kind of girl that giggled and bantered and flirted. She wanted to be taken seriously and respected as a person, not a plaything. And yet here she was, outside his door, swept along by her crush on him, ready for… ready for what? She didn't know exactly.

When Merriella had told her about this switch, and that she'd already talked to Fred and that he was keen on the idea, her heart had leapt in her chest. He wanted to study with her? Or as Merriella had air quoted: "Study".

She poised her hand over the door, ready to knock, and then stopped. What was she doing? Was she really ready for this? Luckily, she'd brought her books, so if there really was a misunderstanding about the word "Study", she was prepared.

Her thoughts were interrupted however when the door swung open in front of her. She jumped a little at the sight of Fred standing in the doorway. He was so handsome it made her heart ache.

"Evening gorgeous," he said with a smirk that made her knees go a little weak in spite of herself.

"E-evening Fred," she stammered.

"Well come in, don't want you to catch cold out there." He ushered her into the room, and locked the door behind her. She shivered at the finality of the gesture as the deadbolt clicked. No going back.

He took her book bag, throwing it next to the door and slipped her coat of her shoulders, letting his fingers glide down her arms.

"Thank you," she said. She could barely get out the words. She noticed the smell of the room immediately. It was definitely a boy's room, but it wasn't altogether unpleasant. There was of course the smell of sweat, but it was sweet sweat, not like a boy's locker room. And over that was a lingering pungency of a strange musky cologne. Fred must have spritzed the stuff all over the room.

"So, you brought your books I see," he said gesturing to the book bag he'd thrown carelessly against the door.

"Um, yes. Wasn't I right to?" she asked nervously. What was the protocol here? She wasn't versed in study session seduction.

"You are a bookworm aren't you? Well..." he sighed. "When Merriella told me you wanted to study with me at midnight, I just assumed…"

"What did you assume?" She tried to ask in a confident way to make him really answer the question, but she just ended up sounding eager. Her eyes were wide and it made Fred smile at the innocent way she was leaning away from him. She was so cute when she was nervous.

"I assumed you didn't want to study at all," he said, taking a step toward her.

"Oh? Well, I always study at midnight. That's when the cranial juices start really flowing." She closed her eyes at how stupid and nerdy that sounded. She walked past him, heart pounding, and bent down to grab her book bag. When she stood up, Fred was right in front of her, staring down into her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat.

"Cynthia," he said softly.

"Y-yes?" Try to keep breathing. Just keep breathing.

"I think you're pretty."

"Oh?" she asked. The blood rushed to her face, and she cringed knowing she was blushing furiously.

"More than pretty, in fact I think you're beautiful." He ran his finger down her cheek. She hadn't realized he'd backed her against the door until her head bumped against the hard wood.

He continued. "I think I'm right about this; that you think I'm quite good looking too."

Cynthia was so turned on by his body being so close to hers that her head was going fuzzy. All she wanted was for their lips to meet right this moment. But she had to stay focused. He was going to use her and leave her for the next girl, and she had too much self respect for that. He was so slick, so clever. But she longed for him to be genuine. Now how to go about stopping this she hadn't quite figured out.

"Fred," she said quietly. "I do. I think you're so handsome, but I don't know…"

"Don't know what?" he asked, trailing his finger along her neck, down across the collar of her tee shirt that somehow had worked its way down past her cleavage. She gulped as his index finger tickled against her skin and made her whole body shiver. He leaned closer, and his nose and lips were brushing against her forehead. He seemed to be soaking in her presence. Her eyes closed of their own accord. This felt so good. How was she going to stop it now?

She did the only thing she could think of.

"I love you," she whispered.

His finger stopped moving. "What?" he asked.

She opened her eyes and stared at him from under her eyelashes. She sighed. She knew that would do it. Problem was, it was the truth.

"Fred. I love you," she said again.

"I… Cynthia, I..." he stared back at her.

"Listen Fred, I want to do this with you, I want to snog you and tease you and give you the wildest sex of your life. But I want to do it so you'll want to be with me, and only me." It felt painful and freeing at the same time to be this honest with him.

He let his hand drop and backed away. Cynthia's heart ached in her chest. Well this was it then. No snogging, no breathless boinking. That was ok though. At least she had her self respect. Ugh, how sad and unadventurous that sounded. She turned around, and picked up her book bag. She would exit before this got any more humiliating.

"What about the time you told me to shove off?" he asked, his back to her.

"What?" She turned around confused.

"Three years ago Cynthia, when I told you how pretty you looked in Divining. You told me to shove off, and never speak to you again."

She remembered. And it had been something she'd tried to forget. She thought for sure he had been teasing her. "Fred, I thought you were joking."

"Joking? I've never been more serious in my life." He turned around, and she put her hand to her chest. His face registered real hurt.

"You were always teasing me, and well, I thought you were just baiting me or something."

He stared at her for a while making her feel uncomfortable under his scrutiny. "You never understood did you?" he asked quietly. "And that's my fault. It's my fault completely."

"What, what are you talking about?"

"You never saw it was all for you. I thought you'd figure it out. I didn't think I had to say it."

"Fred, say it now. Please say it now. What was all for me?" she begged him with her voice.

He shook his head. "Everything I've ever done, I've done so you'll notice me."

She stood there gaping at him. Could this be true? _Everything?_ No. It couldn't be true. He was just playing her again so she would stay. How completely nefarious did one have to be to feign this kind of sincerity.

"What about the girls Fred? All the girls you ever brought back here. Why did you sleep with all of those girls if you wanted me to notice you?"

He smiled. So she had noticed. But he had to set her straight.

"Cynthia, I never slept with any of them." He tried to will her to believe him with his eyes. "What a mess I've made. When they say boys are dummies, they really know what they're talking about."

"You, you never slept with any of them? I'm confused."

He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. "I would always ask them out in front of you! I guess I wanted you to see what you were missing. That you couldn't have me or something, because… I thought I couldn't have you," his chin was down, but his eyes were still on hers as if he was a little shy to be admitting this.

She shook her head, as if walking through a surreal dream.

"Why," she started, her voice shaking a little. "Why did you try what you tried tonight?"

"This is absolutely horrid of me, but I thought maybe you were using me; to get your rocks off so to speak. Wow, I can't believe I'm being this open with you!" he exclaimed. "I still thought you didn't like me. That maybe you knew how much I liked you, and you were going to use me and throw me away. Maybe it was defense, but I thought I'd use you first. I should've known better. I've been watching you for years now, I know you better than that. I'm sorry."

"I don't know if I believe what I'm hearing," said Cynthia. "Did you cast a spell on me? I feel lightheaded."

He laughed. "No spell."

Cynthia put her book bag back on the ground. Her heart was racing with this new knowledge. He liked her? Honestly and truly? This was the stuff of dreams, and it was happening to her!

"Did I hear you say you loved me?" he asked.

"Well, I…" She might as well be honest. "Yes you did. Fred I love you, I always have."

He smiled, and came forward to hold her hands in his. "Cynthia, I don't believe it. The hell you've put me through!" He kissed her fingers staring into her eyes. "What have you to say for yourself?"

She let her fingers caress his and intertwine, letting the warmth and the way they fit together create spider webs of desire that shot through her extremities. "I'm sorry?" she said giggling. "And I never wanted to put you through hell. I only wanted you to like me for real."

He leaned in closer. "I do," he said.

She took a breath. "I do too."

He let their fingers slowly unlock, and slid them around her body to hold her waist with his right arm, and his left around her shoulders, making a hold that she couldn't easily escape from. She tentatively did the same. She felt so strange, to be held by him, and yet, it was the best bloody thing to ever happen to her!

He stared at her for a moment longer and then slowly bent his head to meet her lips in an explosion of tingles and a head rush that left her breathless. She was so caught up in the fact that he was kissing her at all, that she neglected to kiss him back.

He pulled away looking at her with a strange expression, but laughed when he saw her face seemingly lost in ecstasy. Her eyes slowly opened and clarity came back to them. "Again," she breathed, gripping his shoulder. She was glad he had her in such a tight embrace, because she felt like she might melt into a puddle on the floor.

"Mmm," he merely responded and met her lips again, this time smashing them against hers in a frenzy. She met him this time, her head swimming with the feel of him devouring her mouth. He placed his hand behind her head and tilted it to angle her better so he could taste her with his tongue. She tightened her grasp on him, her fingers clutching his neck. His skin felt so good under her hands, she wanted to touch more of him. She could feel the way his muscles moved under his shirt, and it was thrilling her to imagine her fingers coming in contact with his hot skin.

Fred pulled away, breathing heavily. "I don't know about you, but I'm quite lightheaded," he said smiling at her.

"I don't want you to stop kissing me," she said, surprised at the boldness he was bringing out in her.

He laughed, and held her a little ways away from him. "You minx!" he said. "What if I didn't kiss you again?" he asked wanting her to keep asking him, to hear her tell him she wanted him. "What would you do?"

She pouted and tried to lean forward, but he took a step back.

She lowered her gaze, and stepped out of his arms completely. "I would do this," she said and went to the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head leaving her in only a bra and a skirt.

He took a sharp intake of breath. "That'll do it," he said, rushing forward to pull her into his warm arms again, letting his hands slide over her skin. She was so soft; it felt luxurious to hold her to him in this way.

"I want to feel you against me," she said.

He pulled her closer.

"No, I want to feel your skin against my skin," she corrected.

He was flabbergasted at this new side of her that was coming out. But he was going to give her what she wanted all right. Never let it be said that Frederick Weasley denied a woman a simple request. He stepped back and drew his shirt over his head. Cynthia was already running her hands over his stomach before he'd even gotten the article of clothing completely off. His muscles tightened at the contact, and he giggled and drew away.

"Are you ticklish?" she smiled.

"No!" he said indignantly. "I just wasn't expecting you to be all over me like a tigress!"

"Are you ready now?" she asked. She didn't wait for his answer. Her hands went everywhere, caressing him, letting her nails scrape over his shoulders, gripping him around the waist, bringing his hips to hers. "I don't know what you've done to me Fred," she said, her lips against his chest, kissing him across each pectoral muscle. "I feel so comfortable right now or something."

"Or something," he said, hissing through his teeth when she licked his collar bone. He pressed his fingers into her hips when she began to suck on his neck, letting her tongue dart into the hollows of his throat. "I'm not protesting though."

"Now you do it to me," she said drawing back a little.

He smiled a wicked smile, and began to kiss her down her neck, over the swell of her breast, encased in mauve lace and down her stomach. She drew in her breath.

"I'm having trouble standing Fred," she said, her knees buckling and her legs giving way.

"Hold on," he said coming up to hold her.

"I didn't mean for you to stop."

"Then let's go to my bed, so you won't have to stand."

He lifted her with a grunt that sounded manly, and her stomach flipped. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his earlobe into her mouth, eliciting more noises from his throat.

He placed her on the edge of the bed and sat down next to her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her again. "This is bloody fantastic," he said against her lips. "I mean I knew we were going to do this, but I didn't KNOW we were going to do this…"

"Ssh…" she placed her finger over his mouth. She nudged him further backwards, and climbed onto his lap straddling his waist so that they were both sitting up. She pushed her fingers into his hair as he began to slide his mouth over her shoulders, pulling each bra strap down, trailing after them with his tongue. He fiddled for a moment with the clasp of her bra, but it was stuck.

"Enough of this nonsense," he said, and pulled his wand from his pocket. With a flick of his wrist, the clasp popped open, and he slid the article of clothing completely off with a sharp intake of breath. God she was beautiful, and here she was, totally exposed to his gaze, not 6 inches from his face.

She stared down at him as he stared at her, daring not to breathe. Slowly he leaned forward and kissed her breast softly. She took a shaky breath and moaned out his name, feeling her insides clench and release.

He traced the lines and swells of them with his fingers, and then kissed them again, this time letting his tongue tease her as she bucked against his hips. He groaned deep in his throat and felt himself grow even harder at the feel of her sliding over him. His fingers went down to her rear and then underneath her knickers, where she was warm and wet.

"Are you ready for me?" he asked. "I'm beyond ready for you."

"Yes," she said against his mouth, kissing him again. She reached for her wand, and suddenly there was no barrier of clothing between them at all. She raised herself up and then looking into Fred's eyes, slid herself down over him, enfolding him deep inside of her. His eyes squeezed shut at the sensation of finally making it to this moment. He had had a hard time saying no to those other girls, but in this moment, he knew it was worth it. She was worth it.

She raised herself up again and slid back down, moving her hips a little, and his brain exploded. His fingers gripped her waist, and he buried his face in her neck.

"You like that?" she whispered in his ear. He nodded, breathing erratically. He didn't want to let her do all the work though, and incoherent as he felt, he somehow managed to lean back, and take her with him, rolling over so that she was pinned beneath him. She looked up at him surprised.

He kissed her and began to move in and out slowly at first, but then with more fervor, as she gripped the duvet and began to cry out his name.

She couldn't think, her brain was too hazy, but her body was on fire and she wrapped her legs tightly around him. She gasped one more time as she went over the edge, calling out his full name. "Fredrick!" and with a grunt he exploded into her, as they both writhed with pleasure, together until he collapsed on top of her breathing heavily.

She laughed at the dead weight he'd become, laying on top of her, his lips next to hers, as she stroked his hair.

"What just happened?" he whispered.

"I let you go all the way," she said, letting her hands trail down his back.

"Yes you did," he laughed, congratulating himself.

"Now sleep," she said, shutting his eyes with the tips of her fingers. "You're spent, and you need your strength if we're going to do this again later."

He smiled. "You're going to let me do this again?"

"I'm going to _make_ you do this again."

"You are not the shy, quiet girl I took you for. I always knew you were feisty, but you kind of blew my expectations out of the water," he said, raising himself up to look down into her face.

"And you too. You were so honest with me tonight. I never thought that would happen either." She let her index finger run along his jaw line, and he kissed her palm.

"We bring out the best in each other I suppose." He gazed at her meaningfully, and bent to kiss her.

"Mmm hmm," she murmured. It certainly was unusual. Suddenly she shoved him away. "Wait, where did you get your cologne?" she asked.

"My cologne? Merriella gave it to me."

"When?"

"Yesterday. She said it was your favorite scent so I sprayed it everywhere."

"Let me see it!" she demanded, and he leaned over her, and grabbed a bottle off the nightstand next to him.

She took it and sat up a little, removing the stopper and smelled it briefly before rolling her eyes.

"It's that bloody Boldness potion she's been working on. No wonder I acted the way I did!" She blushed a little to think of her behavior and all of the truth that spilled out of her earlier. The secrets she planned to take to her grave were now known to the person she most desperately wanted to keep them from.

"Bloody Merriella!" she cried.

Fred looked at her perplexed.

"So, you're saying, because of this," he said taking the bottle from her, "that, none of this mattered?" He gestured between the two of them hurt in his voice.

She looked up at him in surprise. "No! This, this meant everything," she said, placing her hand on his chest. I just didn't intend for you to know everything I felt for you. And how I behaved. Telling you to keep kissing me, and… pulling my shirt off and…. Everything…" she trailed off blushing furiously.

"Then I have her to thank," said Fred, pulling her to him again, skin on skin. "Would you still be here if it weren't for Merriella giving me that potion?"

"Probably not," she said smiling, snuggling into his arms as he pushed his face into her neck, kissing her and making her giggle. He pulled away and looked into her eyes seriously.

"Well, I'm fine with you knowing my deepest darkest secrets about you. I'm glad you finally know. It's a weight off my chest." She smiled at him. "Are you glad I know yours?"

"You don't think any less of me?" she asked.

"Of course not," he said. "I have the utmost respect for you." He kissed her temple and let his hand explore her back, journeying down her hips, pulling her thigh up over his, and letting his fingers tease the sensitive skin behind her knees. She sighed, as her blood began to heat up again.

"I'll give her your thanks tomorrow," she said, meeting his mouth with hers.


End file.
